


Party Animals

by notallballs (notallbees)



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Drinking, Hangover, M/M, Making Out, Morning After, Partying
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-01
Updated: 2017-03-01
Packaged: 2018-09-26 09:29:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,204
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9882761
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notallbees/pseuds/notallballs
Summary: “Akaashi, talk to Kuroo!” Bokuto said, putting his hand on Kuroo’s shoulders and turning him around to face Akaashi. “I gotta go crowd surf!”Akaashi sighed, his expression turning a little pinched. “Please don’t do that, Bokuto-san. Remember what happened at Christmas?”“That was different!”AU. Kuroo first meets Akaashi at Bokuto's costume party. It's a little rocky to say the least.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [robinfyre](https://archiveofourown.org/users/robinfyre/gifts).



> I hope this meets with your approval! It was a lot of fun to write :D #morekuroaka2k17
> 
> I must extend huge thanks to mousecat for helping me write some of this vile dialogue :3

Kuroo wasn’t good at parties. His ideal mode of socialising was one to one, which was part of the reason his and Kenma’s friendship had lasted so long. But Kenma’s affection did not extend to accompanying Kuroo to parties thrown by Kuroo’s new colleagues, and they _definitely_ didn’t extend to fancy dress, so Kuroo was on his own.

The one upside was that everyone being in costume provided a natural icebreaker to starting conversations with strangers. Still, after three failed attempts at talking to Bokuto’s friends, Kuroo had found a quiet corner where he could drink his beer and people watch in peace. The friends seemed nice, but Kuroo had a tendency to revert to sarcasm when he was nervous, and that Sawamura guy had looked ready to punch him. 

Just as he took a sip of his beer, a voice to his left said, “Nice costume.” 

Kuroo turned, spluttering a little in surprise. The speaker was one of the people Bokuto had introduced him to, but Kuroo couldn’t remember his name. Probably because he’d rolled his eyes and walked off as soon as Kuroo started talking.

“Uh,” Kuroo said, looking down at himself doubtfully. He’d be the first to admit that the Lion King t-shirt he’d borrowed from Bokuto’s little sister was pretty weak as far as costumes went. “Thanks?”

Bokuto’s friend gave him a flat look. “Hm, the vacant expression is convincing, but I’m fairly certain three year olds don’t drink beer.”

Kuroo felt a thrill of anger and excitement rush through him. The other guy didn't seem to be wearing a costume at all, just regular clothes. Kuroo opened his mouth, scrambling for a response, and for once, the right words materialised. “Well you’ve nailed the attitude for your costume, although you don’t _look_ like a dick.”

The man raised an eyebrow “Pretty good comeback for someone who can't read yet.”

“I’m exceptionally well developed for my age,” Kuroo said, warming to the subject. 

The man gave him a slow look that dragged over him from head to toe, making him feel as if his clothes were too tight. He resisted the urge to look away. 

“That’s cute,” the guy said, taking a sip of his drink. “Did your mummy tell you that?”

“You are such a dick,” Kuroo said, grinning.

“You already used that one.” The man sighed and pushed off from the wall. “If you'll excuse me, I'm going to find someone with a vocabulary of more than two hundred words.”

Kuroo was in his element. He gestured with the neck of his beer bottle. “Actually, at three years old children typically have a vocabulary of between four and five hundred words.”

The guy gave Kuroo a look of great suffering. “So you’re a nerd disguised as a toddler,” he said, frowning. “Even worse.”

That stung a little bit. Kuroo had thought that they were getting somewhere. “Nobody’s forcing you to talk to me,” he said lightly.

“This is my corner. Feel free to find another.”

“You own this corner? You bought it?”

“More or less,” the man said, fixing Kuroo with another flat look. “I live here.”

The proverbial light dawned in Kuroo’s mind. “You’re Akaashi,” he said, looking at Akaashi with fresh wonder. Bokuto had hardly stopped rhapsodising about his amazing roommate Akaashi since he and Kuroo met. To hear Bokuto talk, Kuroo had expected Akaashi to be some kind of beautiful, intelligent, benevolent angel. Kuroo struggled to control his expression. “Not what I expected.”

Akaashi sipped his drink again. “Good thing I’m not interested in what some 4chan user with developmental issues thinks about me.”

Before Kuroo could find a comeback, worthy or otherwise, Akaashi turned and disappeared into the crush of the other party guests. 

“What,” Kuroo said to nobody in particular, “the hell?”

After Akaashi had gone, Kuroo realised that he’d almost finished his beer, and reluctantly began to make his way toward the kitchen in search of a replacement. The apartment wasn’t much bigger than the one Kuroo shared with Kenma, but there had to be around forty people crammed into the small space. Getting to the kitchen was an endeavour. Kuroo had made it halfway across the room when someone was thrown out of the crowd of people dancing, and the two of them collided heavily. Kuroo reached out to catch the person instinctively before recognising him as Bokuto. 

“Hey, man,” he said, giving Bokuto a crooked smile as they untangled themselves from one another. “Wild night, huh?”

“Kuroo!” Bokuto yelled, throwing his arms around Kuroo and hugging him almost painfully hard. Kuroo wasn’t exactly sure what Bokuto’s costume was meant to be, but it involved him being shirtless, so Kuroo wasn’t complaining. 

“Hey,” he said again, his voice weak from having his chest crushed. “Having fun?”

Bokuto grinned at him. “So much fun! Are you? Have you been dancing?”

“Dancing isn’t really me,” Kuroo admitted with a self-conscious laugh. “I’m too good, I’d put you to shame.”

“Challenge accepted!” Bokuto yelled. “You want another drink?”

Kuroo nodded and waved his empty beer bottle between them. “Just on my way there now.”

Still grinning, Bokuto grabbed his hand. “I’m on it!”

With Bokuto’s help, they navigated the rest of the way to the kitchen much faster than Kuroo had managed on his own. There were a couple of people talking there, but overall it was much calmer than the rest of the party. 

“I’m really glad you came, dude,” Bokuto said, releasing Kuroo’s hand and going to the fridge for beer. “Haru-chan’s gonna murder me if she finds out where her shirt went though, you’d better keep it.”

Kuroo glanced down at his ‘costume’ again. The t-shirt was sized for children, and on Kuroo it was effectively a crop top. “I’m touched,” he drawled. Bokuto didn’t seem to notice the sarcasm. 

“Dammit, where’s the light shit gone,” Bokuto grumbled, crouching down to rummage more deeply in the fridge’s innards.

“Hey, so,” Kuroo began, feeling awkward in the silence. “I met your roommate.”

“Oh, Akaashi?” Bokuto said, his tone brightening. “You like him? He’s so great. He’s a really good guy, although he kinda tells me off a lot—but only when I do stuff wrong, like if he asks me to take out the trash and I keep forgetting. Most of the time he’s really nice though.”

Half of Bokuto’s words were directed over his shoulder to Kuroo, the other half into the fridge, but Kuroo caught the gist of it. Enough to be confused. 

“We are talking about the same guy, right?” he said, reaching down to accept the beer Bokuto offered. “About this tall, perpetually unimpressed—”

Bokuto straightened up, beaming at him. “That’s him! You like him?”

Kuroo bit his cheek. He didn’t like to lie, but he really liked Bokuto, and he didn’t really want to torpedo another promising friendship by badmouthing Bokuto’s beloved roommate. “We didn’t get much chance to talk,” he said diplomatically. 

“No worries, man!” Bokuto said, practically bouncing on his toes. “I’ll grab him for you!”

“I’ve got at least one hand free for grabbing,” Kuroo said, wincing inwardly. “Don’t worry about it, man.”

Bokuto shrugged. “It’s no bother, he—oh, hey Akaashi!”

Kuroo felt a weird, bubbly sensation in his stomach. Something like dread mixed with eager anticipation. 

“Oh, good,” said a weary voice behind him. “You’re still here.”

“Akaashi, talk to Kuroo!” Bokuto said, putting his hand on Kuroo’s shoulders and turning him around to face Akaashi. “I gotta go crowd surf!”

Akaashi sighed, his expression turning a little pinched. “Please don’t do that, Bokuto-san. Remember what happened at christmas?”

“That was different!” Bokuto yelled, almost deafening Kuroo’s left ear. 

“Just be careful, Bokuto-san.”

“I will, Akaashi!”

Bokuto slapped Kuroo on the shoulder as he passed, and threw himself happily back into the party. The other guests—a Sailor Venus, a sexy nurse and something Kuroo didn’t recognise and didn’t want to know about—had all exited the kitchen around the time Bokuto had started shouting, and Kuroo realised with another tingle of that dread and anticipation that he had been left alone with Akaashi. 

“Well,” Kuroo said, when Akaashi seemed unwilling to speak. “We meet again.”

“What are the odds,” Akaashi said. His voice had lost the tinge of affection it had held when he spoke to Bokuto. He now sounded merely bored. 

Kuroo couldn’t help but notice that Akaashi’s t-shirt was a lot wetter than it had been earlier. Although he knew that it was probably time to cut his losses and get out of here, some combination of determination and spite refused to let him give up. 

“Someone have a little accident?" he said, taking a step closer. A part of him wanted to reach out and touch Akaashi’s wet shirt, but he wasn’t brave enough. He stuck his hand in his pocket instead. “Maybe you should borrow one of my sippy cups.”

Akaashi’s face went through a complicated series of subtle changes, and finally settled on annoyance. “You’re hotter when you don’t talk.”

The words brought Kuroo up short. He opened his mouth to reply, but Akaashi’s words had started to sink in and he closed his mouth again with a frown. Kuroo had been so wrapped up in the verbal sparring that he hadn’t really taken a moment to notice whether he found Akaashi attractive or not. He opened his mouth again and Akaashi raised an eyebrow. When Kuroo was silent, Akaashi’s mouth quirked up at one corner. 

Kuroo swallowed. “Are you negging me?”

Akaashi didn’t react. “No.”

“Shame,” Kuroo said with a crooked smile, “It was totally working.”

He was mildly offended when Akaashi merely rolled his eyes in response, but before he could think up anything cutting to say, Akaashi reached out and grabbed him by the wrist.

"Uh—”

"Can you dance?" Akaashi said, already starting to walk backwards, dragging Kuroo along with him.

Kuroo laughed a little. "Not really."

Akaashi rolled his eyes. "What a surprise," he said, giving Kuroo's wrist an extra hard tug. "Don't step on me."

Having acclimatised to the relative calm and quiet of the kitchen, the heat and noise of the party hit Kuroo like a wall. Akaashi didn't slow down; he pulled Kuroo through the crowd of people, into the middle of the makeshift dancefloor. The music seemed to have been chosen for volume and intensity of bass rather than quality, but Kuroo was mostly grateful that the noise precluded conversation. He wouldn't have to worry about finding something smart to say; he could focus instead on not embarrassing himself too intensely. 

Finally, they reached a space in the middle of the crowd where there was just enough room for them both to dance without crashing into other people on every side. Akaashi released his grip on Kuroo's wrist, turning toward him with a heavy look. 

Kuroo wanted to say something, but he realised that he would have to shout it, which would rather destroy the message. It was hard to act cool and unaffected if you were yelling at the top of your lungs. He took a deep breath, regretting it slightly when his throat filled with the smell of spilled beer and saccharine perfume, underpinned with a subtle layer of body odour, but it nevertheless helped him to relax. Trying to recall the last time he'd been dancing, Kuroo could only vaguely remember a regrettable night out for Kai's twenty-second birthday. 

While he was recalling the second half of the night, which had been spent at the hospital waiting for Yaku's fractured foot to be x-rayed, Akaashi moved nearer to him, leaning up to put his mouth close to Kuroo's ear. 

"You're thinking too much," he said loudly, his words barely perceptible over the music. "You're going to hurt yourself."

Kuroo laughed aloud, and Akaashi drew back with a small, cunning smile. Before he could pull too far away, Kuroo reached out and put his hands on Akaashi's waist, earning himself another raised eyebrow. That seemed to be Akaashi's trick when he didn't know what to say, or, Kuroo flattered himself, he was at least mildly impressed. 

"Come here," Kuroo said, probably too quiet for Akaashi to hear, but he hoped the insistent tug on his hips would get the message across. 

Akaashi reached up and put his hands on Kuroo's shoulders, looking up at him, unblinking. Kuroo was used to looking down at people he was involved with, but Akaashi was only shorter by a few centimetres. Kuroo realised that he would barely have to bend down at all to kiss him, and then wondered where that particular thought had bubbled up from. It might have been the alcohol finally setting in, but Kuroo was beginning to see why Bokuto found Akaashi so pleasing, at least aesthetically speaking. Personality-wise, he was fairly convinced that Akaashi was garbage. 

"We're slow dancing," Akaashi said, leaning in to speak against Kuroo's ear again. His breath tickled Kuroo's neck, making him feel hot and shivery. "This isn't slow dancing music."

Kuroo replied with a shrug. Akaashi's hands slid down his shoulders, curling around his biceps and sliding down to the crook of his elbows. He smelled a little sweet and stale from the beer that had spilled on him, but underneath that Kuroo could smell his skin, the heat from his body making Kuroo feel nervous and hungry for more. He tightened his grip on Akaashi’s hips and pressed the tip of his nose against the side of Akaashi’s jaw, breathing him in. 

Akaashi pulled back suddenly, turning around in Kuroo's arms and leaning back against him. He rolled his hips slowly, rubbing up against Kuroo like a cat. To his mortification, Kuroo felt himself flush at the sensation. He couldn’t shake the feeling that Akaashi was doing this to get a reaction from him, that at any moment he might turn around and laugh and walk away. 

Then Akaashi reached for Kuroo’s hands and brought them back to his hips, pressing them there as he rolled and shimmied. Kuroo pushed back, the two of them barely dancing anymore so much as just grinding against each other. Akaashi tipped his head back against Kuroo’s shoulder, sighing heavily and reaching back, cradling Kuroo’s head with one of his hands. 

“I told you I was bad at dancing,” Kuroo said, as the music began to fade into another track, and he didn’t have to shout over the crowd.

Akaashi turned Kuroo’s head and caught him in an awkward kiss. Kuroo’s eyes widened in surprise, but Akaashi only tilted his head to deepen the kiss. Everything about it was warm and slow and indulgent. Someone bumped them from behind, dislodging the lazy kiss; Kuroo ran his hand up Akaashi’s chest, keeping him steady, and they crashed back together after a moment with more fervour. 

Kuroo tugged at Akaashi’s arm and he turned again, wrapping his arms around Kuroo’s neck and leaning up to bite at his mouth. They had given up any pretence of dancing, but nobody around them seemed to have noticed. At least, Kuroo hoped nobody had noticed. 

They broke apart, panting, and Akaashi grabbed his wrist again, tugging him closer. It was far too loud to hear what he said, but there was no mistaking the heavy look in his eyes. Kuroo let himself be pulled through the crowd of people a second time, Akaashi shoving people aside carelessly, while Kuroo followed helplessly in his wake. 

They reached the other side of the apartment and Akaashi reached into his pocket for a key. 

"You lock your door?" Kuroo yelled.

Akaashi turned to give him a withering look. 

"Okay, okay," Kuroo laughed, holding up his hands defensively. "I didn't say it was a bad idea."

Nodding, Akaashi turned back to his task, getting the door open a moment later and shoving Kuroo inside. The room was dark. Kuroo heard the door slam and then the key turn in the lock, and had half a second to panic before he felt Akaashi's hand brush his arm.

"Akaashi—"

"What did I say about talking," Akaashi said in a low voice, though he sounded decidedly less composed than he had in the kitchen. His hand moved up Kuroo's arm to his shoulder, and Kuroo round himself reaching out, his hands finding Akaashi's hips again at the same time as Akaashi slipped a hand around the back of his neck and pulled him into a clumsy kiss. 

Their lips bumped together at first, and Kuroo winced when he felt his upper lip bruise slightly against his teeth. Akaashi's mouth pressed against his chin next, and Kuroo laughed under his breath.

"You're a fucking disgrace," Akaashi murmured, curling his fingers into Kuroo's hair.

Kuroo grinned. "You're the one kissing a three year old."

He felt Akaashi smile, and his heart flipped over. "Touché."

Kuroo kissed him, catching Akaashi's bottom lip in his mouth and sucking on it slowly. Akaashi grunted and tugged him closer, his fingers tight in Kuroo's hair while he kissed him languidly, lips parting and his tongue pressing eagerly against Kuroo's. 

"Hey, hey," Kuroo gasped, breaking away from the kiss. "Are we—what are we doing here?"

"I thought dragging you into my bedroom should have made that pretty obvious," Akaahi muttered, and while Kuroo couldn't see his face well enough to read his expression, his tone of voice was cutting.

Kuroo clicked his tongue. "Uh huh. Can I get a little more detail?"

Akaashi let go of Kuroo, hands sliding off him. "Detail?"

"Ah, well," Kuroo muttered, already regretting the question. He felt himself go pink. "Um. I just mean...what did you want to do?"

"I don't know," Akaashi huffed impatiently. "Why do we need to have a whole conversation about it?"

Kuroo laughed softly, and was sure he could feel Akaashi bristle in response, even though they weren't touching. "I just wanna know what I should do," he said, shrugging one shoulder. He reached out and touched Akaashi's arm. Akaashi shrugged him off, but Kuroo wasn't deterred. 

"So you need ordering around?" Akaashi asked after a moment. 

The words made the hair prickle on the back of Kuroo's neck. "I—not...exactly," he said slowly, because that wasn't what he had meant, but he didn't want to rule the idea out entirely. He moved a little closer to Akaashi in the dark and leaned in close, not quite touching. "Can I touch you?"

Akaashi shrugged. "You don't fill me with confidence that you know what you're doing."

Kuroo reached up and stroked Akaashi's bare forearm with the back of one knuckle. "Can I kiss you, Akaashi?"

"It would be a start," Akaashi murmured. 

Kuroo slid his hand up to Akaashi's shoulder, and then cupped his cheek, leaning in to kiss him. Akaashi sullenly refused to return the kiss at first, but as Kuroo tried to pull away again, Akaashi grabbed a fistful of his borrowed t-shirt and dragged him back in. 

Feeling daring, Kuroo moved his hands to hold Akaashi's hips, tugging him closer, and then slid them up his back, taking the damp shirt with him. Akaashi pressed close with a shiver, stroking Kuroo's tongue with his own and sighing heavily. They broke apart again after a minute to catch their breath, and Kuroo nudged Akaashi's head to one side so that he could dig his teeth into Akaashi's neck.

"Hhnn," Akaashi grunted, clawing at Kuroo's back. "Fffuck—”

"I think," Kuroo said, trying to swallow down the thrill of making Akaashi lose his composure, "this is all an excuse to get me out of my costume."

Akaashi gave a sharp, breathless laugh. "It is fucking horrible."

“Guess I'd better take it off then,” Kuroo said, his voice a little too unsteady to be cool. 

Akaashi nodded, so Kuroo reached over his head and, with some difficulty, wriggled himself out of the borrowed t-shirt. He tossed it somewhere over his shoulder and shivered when Akaashi wasted no time in running warm hands up his back, tugging him closer and pressing his mouth against Kuroo’s jaw. 

“The bed,” he murmured, scraping his teeth over Kuroo’s skin.

Kuroo glanced behind him. His eyes were adjusting to the darkness and he could make out the shape of Akaashi’s unmade bed, the sheets flung all over. He shuffled them over to the bed, letting his hands slip up inside Akaashi’s t-shirt. When they were close enough, Akaashi broke away from him and gave him a shove so that he toppled back onto the mattress. 

“Hey—” Kuroo said, laughing. 

Akaashi straddled his legs clumsily, reaching to tangle his fingers in Kuroo’s hair and leaning in. “Oh,” he said softly, his lips against Kuroo’s mouth. “I forgot to take my clothes off.”

Kuroo laughed again and gave him a messy kiss, enjoying the feel of Akaashi’s fingers in his hair. “Let me help,” he said, grinning.

He rolled Akaashi onto his back, and hovered over him, reaching down to unfasten Akaashi’s jeans. “This okay?”

Akaashi nodded his head. “Wanted to fuck you since you walked in,” Akaashi grumbled, reaching down and pushing Kuroo’s hands out of the way. He ripped open the fly and shoved his jeans down over his ass.

“You rolled your eyes at me,” Kuroo said, because he’d gotten this far on riling Akaashi; he wasn’t ready to stop now.

“You introduced yourself with a pun.”

Kuroo snorted. “I’ll avoid having a sense of humour from now on then.” He grabbed Akaashi’s jeans and tugged them down to his knees.

“Like I said,” Akaashi said, flopping back on the bed. He sounded extremely pleased with himself. “You’re hotter when you don’t talk.”

“Uh huh,” Kuroo muttered, throwing Akaashi’s jeans onto the floor and leaning over him. “You got any condoms?”

Akaashi tugged him down and kissed him again, wrapping his legs around Kuroo's hips and pulling their bodies together. Kuroo submitted to the kiss, slipping his hands up inside Akaashi's t-shirt again and letting more of his weight press down, pinning Akaashi to the bed. They kissed lazily, grinding on each other with slow intent. Akaashi reached down and grabbed Kuroo's ass through his jeans, and they both moaned as they rocked together slowly. 

"Akaashi," Kuroo murmured, nudging Akaashi's head to one side so that he could kiss the side of his neck. "You got any condoms? I wanna blow you."

"Mmm," Akaashi hummed. He lifted his hand and pushed at Kuroo's shoulder. "Move."

Kuroo laughed. "I can get 'em, just tell me where—"

"No, _move_ ," Akaashi said crossly. "I'm gonna puke."

"What—"

"Move!"

"Okay, okay."

Kuroo scrambled to his feet, and Akaashi curled onto his side with a groan. A few moments passed, in which neither of them moved. Eventually, Kuroo cleared his throat.

"Uh, are you really going to throw up?"

Akaashi gave a sad nod. "Vodka—ugh—" He paused, pressing his hand to his mouth for a few seconds. "Vodka...doesn't agree with me."

Kuroo sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. "Okay. You got a bathroom hidden around here?"

"Just the main one," Akaashi said in a dwindling voice. 

"Okay, kid," Kuroo said softly. He leaned over and brushed Akaashi's hair out of his eyes. "Hang on a second, okay? I'm gonna find you a bucket or something."

Akaashi just nodded again, curling into a tight ball. 

 

 

Akaashi woke late the following morning, feeling like pure fried hell. He sat up slowly, squinting at the light coming in through his open blinds. His mouth tasted unspeakably awful. 

Unsteadily, Akaashi got to his feet. He was only wearing his underwear, and he couldn't be sure, but he was fairly convinced the pair of jeans he'd just stepped on didn't belong to him. Akaashi sometimes wished he had the blessing of forgetting everything after he got drunk enough to do something he might regret. Unlike Bokuto, who had the memory of a sieve after two drinks, Akaashi remembered every misdeed.

Which didn't explain the presence of the mystery jeans. Akaashi remembered dragging Bokuto's new friend with the terrible hair into his bedroom. He did _not_ remember getting soundly fucked, as he'd intended. 

Creeping across his bedroom, Akaashi realised that he could hear voices beyond his door. Without stopping to grab a t-shirt, he crossed to the door and flung it open. The voices were coming from the kitchen, and he stormed across the living room and braced himself in the doorway to the kitchen.

"What the hell happened?" he demanded.

Bokuto looked up from a plate of pancakes and grinned. "Hey, Akaashi! How're you feeling now? Are you still sick? You should eat, Kuroo made breakfast and it's _incredible_."

Akaashi blinked at Bokuto. "Good morning, Bokuto-san," he said, then slid his eyes across to Kuroo. "You're still here."

"Seems so," Kuroo said calmly. "You hungry? Bokuto cleaned me out of pancakes but I made some more batter."

"I—" Akaashi hesitated, and noticed Bokuto nodding furiously out of the corner of his eye. "Yeah, just a little." Bokuto raised his eyebrows and Akaashi wrinkled his nose. "Please."

Kuroo just looked amused. "My pleasure."

After hesitating for a few awkward moments longer, Akaashi slipped into the kitchen and took a seat opposite Bokuto. "What happened to my clothes?"

"You puked on your shirt!" Bokuto said cheerfully. "And on Kuroo, but he'd already taken his shirt off."

Akaashi felt himself go very pink. Ah, yes. Now he remembered. “Sorry,” he said, giving Kuroo a sheepish look.

Kuroo just smiled in a way that made his face turn soft and lovely, and Akaashi looked away quickly before the butterflies in his stomach made him want to throw up again. 

“You sure you can eat?” Kuroo asked kindly.

As if in response, Akaashi’s stomach growled loudly. It was silent for a moment except for the sizzling of the frying pan, and then Bokuto burst out laughing. 

“Bokuto-san,” Akaashi chided gently, smiling through his mortification. “You shouldn’t laugh with your mouth full.”

“Then you shouldn’t make me laugh,” Bokuto said, grinning and unconcerned. He finished his mouthful and got to his feet. “I gotta go, I’m meeting Oikawa soon.”

“Oho?” Kuroo said, looking over his shoulder. “You two were pretty cosy last night.”

Akaashi blinked up at them. “You were?”

Bokuto blushed. “Kuroo caught us on the couch after you fell asleep.”

“Ugh,” Akaashi muttered, making a face. “I thought we’d agreed—”

“No sex on the couch, I _know_ ,” Bokuto whined. “But we were drunk, and he’s _so_ cute.”

Kuroo let out a loud snort of disbelief. Bokuto either didn’t notice or chose to ignore it, but Akaashi was pleased. “Have fun,” Kuroo said, swatting at Bokuto with the spatula. “I’ll clear out soon. Thanks for the invite, man, sorry for overstaying my welcome.”

“Dude,” Bokuto said, patting his own stomach appreciatively. “ _Any_ time.”

After Bokuto had gone, Akaashi started to feel self-conscious about the fact that he was hardly wearing any clothes. Kuroo, he realised, was wearing one of Bokuto’s t-shirts, and a pair of sweatpants that were too short for him. 

“I should put some clothes on,” he said, without making a move to get up.

Kuroo shrugged. “If you want.” He grabbed a plate and flipped the pancakes onto it, then set it down in front of Akaashi. “Just eat what you want. I’m sure Kou will finish the rest when he gets back.”

Akaashi looked down at the plate. The pancakes were lopsided, but they looked and smelled delicious. “Thank you,” he said sincerely, looking up at Kuroo.

They held each other’s gaze for a moment. “You know,” Akaashi said, reaching for the syrup. “This is the most clothes I’ve seen you wear yet.”

Kuroo laughed and ruffled the back of his hair self-consciously. “Yeah, that shirt was pretty bad.” After a moment, he grabbed the edge of his borrowed t-shirt and tugged it off, holding it out to Akaashi. 

Akaashi gave him a curious look, making no move to take the t-shirt.

“Ah, you look cold, that’s all.”

The odds on Kuroo being a real human being seemed to be shrinking by the second. Akaashi glared at him. “Who _are_ you?” he said, reaching out to snatch the t-shirt from Kuroo’s grasp and pulling it on quickly. Kuroo looked surprised for a moment, before grinning and taking the seat Bokuto had vacated. “Who does this? I—I was _atrocious_ to you last night, why didn’t you leave?” He looked down at his plate, and shoved a spoonful of pancake in his mouth. “Why did you make me breakfast?” he demanded.

Kuroo propped his chin in his hand. “You shouldn’t talk with your mouth full,” he said, with a sly smile that made Akaashi want to bite him. 

Akaashi scowled and chewed his food as petulantly as he could. When he swallowed at last, he tilted his head and gave Kuroo a long, appraising look. “Why’re you so quiet? You’re just watching me eat.”

“Well,” Kuroo said, leaning forward in his chair. “You said I was hotter when I don’t talk.”

“Seriously,” Akaashi said doubtfully. “I threw up on you and you still think I’m hot?”

Kuroo nodded. 

“You’re an idiot.”

“ _You’re_ an idiot,” Kuroo said fondly, grinning. “Who drinks that much vodka when they _know_ it’ll make them puke?”

Akaashi pursed his lips. “That’s who I am, like it or not.”

“Oh, I like it,” Kuroo said.

Scowling, Akaashi reached out and pushed Kuroo’s arm so that his elbow slid out from under his chin. Kuroo caught himself, laughing, and leaned over and licked the side of Akaashi’s mouth.

Akaashi’s hand flew up to touch his mouth. “What was that for?”

“You had syrup on your face.”

“So?”

Kuroo smiled. “Go on a date with me.”

“No. Weirdo.”

“You threw up on me. You owe me.”

Akaashi sighed and finished his mouthful. “Fine. But not today, I need to go back to bed.”

“Tomorrow then.”

“This doesn’t mean I like you.”

Kuroo’s grin widened. “That’s okay. I like you enough for both of us.”

Akaashi’s stomach fluttered again, and he was fairly sure that it wasn’t just leftover nausea. He had a horrible feeling that it was almost entirely thanks to Kuroo’s smile, which was going to be a problem.

“I think,” Akaashi said, tearing at his pancakes, “you should go back to being quiet.”

Kuroo waited a moment longer, then got to his feet. “I should go. I have to feed my friend’s cats.”

“Cats,” Akaashi said, frowning.

“Cats,” Kuroo agreed.

“Tomorrow then.” Akaashi looked him in the eye and tried to seem stern. “Nothing fancy, you already impressed me with the pancakes.”

“Noted,” Kuroo said, and saluted him lazily. “I won’t impress you.”

“Good.”

Kuroo fetched a hoodie jacket from somewhere and zipped it up over his bare chest. “Take care of that hangover,” said, stepping back into the kitchen just as Akaashi shoved the last of his pancakes in his mouth. Kuroo leaned in behind him and kissed his cheek, and Akaashi was relieved that Kuroo couldn’t see him blush. He really hoped Kuroo wouldn’t make him blush on their date, but he had a feeling that it was inevitable. 

He was sort of looking forward to it.

**Author's Note:**

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